


Like an Ornament

by AlwaysEroticWrestling, ThisGuyFvcks



Series: High Spots High [15]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Christmas BS, Highschool AU, M/M, Some Fluff, Some angst, cranky!tyler, idk covering bases, implied emotional trauma, sad!mox, soft!roman, some teens bein' teens, warning for child neglect i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysEroticWrestling/pseuds/AlwaysEroticWrestling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisGuyFvcks/pseuds/ThisGuyFvcks
Summary: It's Winter Break, and Jon Moxley could use a warm bed and a friendly face.He gets a lot of bittersweet memories and mixed-up feelings, but if he's lucky he might get a Christmas miracle, too.Lots of flashbacks that set up just how their quirky relationships were established. Some laughs, etc.Sequel to Just Sustain & Council (chapter 1).
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: High Spots High [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536658
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. .

It didn’t usually get cold enough to snow, but a winter snap had the skies looking suspicious on his Friday evening ride.  
School was out for the entire week of Christmas break. What it meant for Mox was that he could have more free time to earn some extra cash and a lot of alone time.

At least that’s what he’d hoped for.  
What he got was a strange car in the driveway of the house he’d spent months squatting in, and a fresh new ‘FOR SALE OR RENT’ sign in the yard.  
“Shit shit shit,” he cursed through gritted teeth, and drove past the street. He should just leave it, and never come back.

But everything he owned was in that damned house. And it wasn’t much but…  
He passed by again half an hour later, and thankfully they were gone. They’d changed the locks, though. His card trick was no match for the fresh deadbolt either. 

He paced on the porch for a moment, trying to think or decide or swallow down some of the panic and anger that was flaring up in his chest. His fingers were cold enough they’d gone numb. A little life came back into them when rubbed them together, and then something caught his eye. A brick.  
“Shit. M’sorry,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure who. The owners that’d locked him out. God...who he didn’t believe in nearly as much as he believed in local cryptids, honestly…  
Maybe Dallas Page. Who’d given him a fairer shake than anyone else had in a very long time.

The kitchen window gave easy, and he cleaned up the pane enough to keep from gashing himself open as he climbed through.  
He was in and out in ten minutes, duffel bag packed and strapped down to his bike. A couple sets of clothes, a charger for his phone. The futon had to be left. So much for that investment. 

He was on the road, and he wasn’t entirely sure where to go.  
Moxley knew kids at school, yeah. Jimmy Havoc and he had some encounters that might be construed as ‘friendly’. Janela seemed like a decent guy, though their issues were…different. 

He hadn’t really taken the time to get honestly close to anyone. The only other person he knew at all was probably Kenny Omega, and that certainly wasn’t friendly. Even if Moxley couldn’t exactly place what the hell it _was_.  
After the initial panic passed, Mox had the reigns on things again. He wasn’t going to fall apart or lose his shit over it.

He could sleep at the shop, probably.  
He’d kept that free sandwich card he’d taken off of Chuck Taylor for a rainy day. And with the sun down and the skies still giving that blanket-like glow, Mox decided it was time to cash in.

Two bites into an overloaded footlong with all the fixins, his phone rang. Mox swallowed it down as he checked the number. He picked up on the third ring with a “Hey Ro”. There were a few other people in the restaurant, and he kept his voice down.

“Hey man!” Roman’s cheery voice greeted him. He felt something in his throat, but he was going to swear to himself it was just a wayward slice of onion. He ran a hand through his hair. “Guess what?” Mox rolled his eyes.

“If you got like, a scholarship advance, and you’re getting a lambo, but it is painted in those shit Gators colors.” There. He guessed. 

“Well, no, t’s not that good- I mean, kinda. Yeah, no. Lemme try again…”  
Mox slumped in his chair, tucking his arms and holding the phone close as he listened. “Guess who definitely isn’t on a plane right now to go see grandma Maivia.” Moxley didn’t even have time to breathe before Roman answered.

“It’s me! And it’s just me. I got out of traveling because I said that Coach said I needed the extra practice to make sure I looked good in the spring. Which is sort’ve true, because he did expect me to come and practice over the break because ‘we work through the holidays’ but I told him I’d be in another hemisphere. And I am not.”

Jon was smiling. Mostly because he could feel the glee through the phone.  
“So. You...decided not to spend Christmas in a tropical paradise, with your family?”

There was a pause on the other end, and Mox snuck another bite of his sandwich in.  
“I needed a break, man. I have way too many cousins… So. You wanna..y’know. Stay over? It’s been like four hours, so I need the company. ”

Moxley could almost swear Roman was some sort of semi-psychic guardian angel or something, because he definitely had a knack for bailing his ass out of bad situations.  
“Yeah man. I’d…. really like that. I can be there in an hour.”

He was actually closer to an hour and a half, if only because he decided he definitely had to get Ro something for Christmas. He kept a 20 for gas and spent the other hunting for a last minute probably stupid present. Last year it’d been just as stupid, but the circumstances had been way better.

It was definitely snowing now. Not enough yet to make the highway a death trap, but enough to be a constant reminder that a leather jacket wasn’t always an all-weather coat. With the large, just-cold-enough flakes falling down in front of it, the otherwise perfectly normal house looked like a snapshot out of a film.

It made him feel hungry in a sense a footlong couldn’t satiate. He stood there, in the cold, kickstand up on his bike, and watched the windows from the driveway. Over the blowing wind, he could hear music inside. With a breath, and his crammed-too-full duffle, he walked up the steps to be greeted by same wreath he remembered from last year.

Not pine, oh no. Not for them. Coconuts. It was made from coconuts. Roman had absolutely insisted it was a Samoan tradition. Moxley still had doubts.  
It made him laugh anyway.

Two knocks. Roman opened the door before the third one landed, smile as wide as the door he held for him.  
“Holy. Look at that, it’s _snowing_. Can you believe that?”  
“Only because I might still lose my finger tips ‘cause of it,” Mox mumbled, stepping inside. Familiar. But it’d been a while. Last time, he hadn’t used the front door at all.

He let his bag down next to the sitting room sofa. Roman turned down the music he’d probably describe as ‘rock’ but Jon would describe as ‘bad’. He breathed and could smell cinnamon. And that faint smell furnaces made when they kicked on that was kinda bad but sorta good, too. The furniture all looked the same as it had last time he’d been there.  
And, well, why wouldn’t it? It hadn’t really been that long.  
It’d just.  
Felt long.  
And it was a lot.

Mox was still in his head when he felt Roman standing behind him.  
“M really glad you wanted to stay.”  
It shouldn’t have been something that hit him as hard as it did. But today hadn’t been great. And the rest of the year had been trending pretty progressively downhill overall.  
Shit sucked. Even if Mox wasn’t going to so much as say it outloud. 

He turned around to face Roman, who was about his height with the jury still out who’d end up taller. He’d meant to reply. Really, he had.

Instead he’d framed his hands on Roman’s shoulders and pressed his lips firmly into his.


	2. 2

Understandably, Roman froze.  
But only for a blink. Because then he shifted so their lips aligned more perfectly. And after a missed breath, they pulled back apart, and that was it. Chaste and warm and easy.  
Roman’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, and Jon ran a hand through his snow-damp curls and paced a little circle around the room.

“Hey. Sorry.”   
“Shut up,” Roman couldn’t hide his grin. His brows dipped as he watched Moxley do his stalking. “I missed that. Annnd besides. Uh. You’re probably going to be too pissed at me to do that again for a very long time in a few minutes.” 

It was Mox’s turn to look confused. He stilled his restless pacing and looked at the other man.  
“...Wait. Why?”  
The doorbell rang in reply.   
Roman smiled, an apologetic smile that made Mox get anxious. His fingers twitched at his side, but he hung back.  
Roman opened the door, much as he had for him.  
“They were out of pepperoni, somehow, so I got sausage and-”

He didn’t need Roman to step out of view to know who was in the doorway. Not a delivery boy, that was for damned sure.  
A ghost, maybe.  
Well. That’s was probably too dramatic.   
Roman did move out of the way, without saying a word, and the two instantly saw one another.  
Long hair, wind-blown and everywhere. Most of it deep brown, but a large shock of platinum curls obscured his face. It looked like he was trying to grow some sort of facial hair.  
It looked like he’d seen a ghost too.

“Seriously,” he hissed, cutting his eyes at Roman. Tyler Black, it seemed, had also found this little forced reunion to be an unwelcome surprise. 

He could feel the adrenaline thrum, and he had an impulse to leave so strong it almost gave him leg spasms.   
“Guys,” Roman held out a hand to each of them, like someone would to calm a wounded animal. “C’mon. Please…. Twenty minutes... _please.,_.” He sounded tired. Mox swallowed at the rock in his throat. It persisted.  
His eyes didn’t leave the third man’s. Tyler’s stayed glued on his as well, both of them unblinking.   
And then Tyler’s lips curled down in that brattly little frown.  
“Fine. Fine.” He gave up, his arms folding over his chest. He walked in from the cold, tossing the pizza on the kitchen island before folding his arms across his chest and taking up residence in the corner of the room. 

Roman looked at the door like he considered locking it.   
No one said shit. Mox kept his eyes on the back of Tyler’s head, just in case, as he sulked in his spot.

Finally Roman spoke up.   
“Alright. I’m tired of this. Can we please just. Sort our shit? Don’t you guys miss...Us?”  
It was frank and on the nose and it made Mox feel naked.  
Scratch that, because being naked wouldn’t bother him half as much as this did.

He had quantifiable proof of that. 

Summer before sophomore year seemed like a whole damned lifetime ago.   
It was just a week before classes started again, and it had to be one of the hottest days on record. Hot enough that Roman’s practice got cut. After two of the guys almost passed out from heat exhaustion, anyway.

And that was why the three of them decided to spend one of their last truly free days together, at the only refuge from the heat that was also away from their respective families.   
It wasn’t the biggest lake, but it did have a few bluffs and a cool river feeding it. It also had another feature, which was the current subject of conversation.

“So why don’t people just take a boat out there?” Roman wondered, skipping another stone over the water. Despite his arm strength the finesse was lacking.   
“It’s not the point - That’s not what you do,” Tyler tried to explain, for what felt like the tenth time.  
The looked over the bluff at a pretty little island in the middle of the lake.  
“You jump off, you swim out there, you put a rock in the pile. It’s just a thing people do. I dunno, man. It’s just one of those things.”  
Mox shielded his eyes against the sun and surveyed the horizon. 

“It ain’t that far.”  
The other two looked at him, then one another.  
“It’s like, three hundred yards or so.” Roman figured, judging purely on his knowledge of football fields. “Thirty feet down.”  
“It ain’t that far,” Mox reiterated. “...So. We doing this?” He was, frankly, fucking hot. He hadn’t swallowed his pride enough to wear jean shorts, and he was definitely rethinking that choice. The water looked great.

“Hell yeah,” Tyler stood up, adjusting the ponytail he’d tugged his hair up in.   
Roman, usually something of the voice of reason nodded.  
“Sure. Yeah.” 

Mox kicked off his worn sneakers and the others followed suit down to their boxers. He considered his options, and then started to shuck his underwear off and into his clothes pile.

“Whoa-” Tyler noticed first. “Uh.”  
Mox wasn’t bothered.  
“I’m not fucking around in wet boxers, man,” he said simply. It sounded more reasonable than crazy. It usually did in the context of Jon Moxley, though.

“Y’sure? What if there’s leeches?” Tyler shot back, still skeptical of this plan.  
“Hey, at least he’d be getting sucked by somethin-” Roman snickered. Mox shook his head and threw up two particular fingers at him.

“See you bitches on the other side.” Without any further notice, he ran right off the ledge and leapt. It wasn’t pretty, but it was impressive. 

Hitting the cold water was a rush. It stung the balls of his feet and the balls of his elsewhere, but it felt like being alive, and that was good. When he surfaced for breath and cleared his eyes, the first things he saw were two terrified heads watching him from the bluff above.

“C’mon y’cowards!” He goaded, backstroking enough to get himself out of the landing zone a half second before Tyler jumped in after him.

Tyler came up, ponytail absolutely destroyed on impact, and flung his hair out of his face. The two of them watched, shoulder to shoulder, for almost a minute before Roman came splashing down with a cannonball that had them both cheering.

“What took ya so long?” Tyler teased as he joined them.   
“I had to hide you guys’ shit. I’m not driving back with Mox bare-ass in my backseat. He splashed at both of them before leading the way to the island. 

“Wait hold on.” Tyler dived back under, deep down, came up with three similarly sized smooth stones in hand. “Gotta have these.” Mox, while he didn’t get it exactly, took one anyway. So did Roman.

They spent the afternoon sprawled on half-sandy half-rocky shore talking about much better things were going to be with three of them. A few bright-eyed promises were made in the moment, honest and earnest at the time. When it got late enough in the day they needed to swim back, they each placed their gray rocks with the other several dozen in the crudely arranged pyramid at the island’s middle and left. 

That wasn't even long ago. It felt like a fever-dream, like something he'd made up to feel a little better, as they stood there. Staring, and not talking.


	3. 3

Roman broke the awkward silence.  
“Why don’t you tell him some of the stuff you said to me the other day?” He suggested to Black, who looked betrayed at the accusation of saying anything. 

Mox just showed himself to the sofa and sunk into it, still in earshot of the others, but far out of the eye-line.  
“Hey,” Roman called after him, but the sigh that followed said he wasn’t going to push it further.

“Coulda warned me about this shit.” Even whispering Tyler’s voice carried above the din of the music.  
“You wouldn’t’ve come. Because you’re a stubborn ass, and he’s a stubborn ass,” Roman cursed back, also with a poor attempt at whispering. 

Jon Moxley was firmly in the camp of not saying anything right now. Not that he was exactly for the silent treatment, but he’d been burned enough trying to put out flaming bridges that he decided to hang back.  
Things like this tended to escalate in his presence. And he was fine with that, usually. But it had already been a very long day.

The back and forth became a hushed bickering where he could only make out a few words from each statement. Mox didn’t try to listen. Eventually he heard a half-hearted ‘Ow, fine!’ from the kitchen and footsteps approaching. 

Mox, not one to have the lower ground, stood up as Roman and Tyler approached.  
It was another long moment before Roman sat down in the middle. The other two flanked him awkwardly.  
They sat there, in front of a tv that wasn’t on, in the longest silence of his life. Mox glanced at his duffel bag and felt like a moron.  
Roman folded his arms, making him seem like the stubborn child and stern parent all in one.

After one or two false starts of clearing his throat and stopping, Tyler said something.

“That’s pretty messed up.”  
________

The boy sitting next to him broke the quiet they’d been sitting in for a few minutes, and nodded to the wound Moxley was nursing. 

“It looks worse than it is.” Jon Moxley, freshly turned thirteen, held a white towel that’d mostly gone red to his shoulder. His nurses office companion was in his class, but they hadn’t crossed paths all that much. Mox noticed the ice pack strapped to his knee and the ripped Black Flag shirt he wore.

“What even happened? Did you get in a knife fight?”  
Mox laughed.  
“Me? Nah. It was barbed wire.”  
The other boy’s eyes widened.  
“At _school_?”  
“Oh. No. Sorta.” Mox licked his lips and prepared the spark notes version.  
“I got it cut up on this fence I jumped. I got stitches I just… kinda busted ‘em back open is all.”

The other boy’s expression stayed shocked, and that goaded Mox on.  
“Wanna see?” He didn’t wait for an answer, removing the towel to show the gore beneath.  
“Oh sick. That’s- Dude, don’t you need a hospital?”  
“Nah…” He put the towel back on, satisfied at the horror he’d provided. “They’re really good here. They’re kinda used to this sorta stuff. And it’s free. What happened with you?” He nodded his head toward the banged up knee, which the boy seemed to forget existed for a second.  
“Huh? Oh. I just… blew it out in gym class. Gymnastics. “

“You do the jumps and flips and stuff? That’s cool.” The two nodded, and fell into silence for a few moments.  
It was the other boy that spoke up again.

“I like your jeans,” he offered. “And I bet that’ll leave an awesome scar.”  
“Thanks.”  
“I’m Tyler.” He held out his hand.  
“Mox.” Mox did the same, and then realized the inside was blood-streaked. He closed his hand into a fist and held out his clean knuckles instead.  
Tyler laughed and they fist bumped.  
“Cool.” Mox cut a smile and looked at him from under his bangs.

It was really hard not to believe in fate when such pivotal, world-changing moments relied on tiny circumstances of chance. But that was definitely what this was. Black sought him out on lunch periods, and the two became fast friends. They didn’t exactly have a lot of common interests, but there was something else that made it work. They shared music, talked about movies. They could just sit with one another and be comfortable.

Mox hadn’t had a best friend before. Not really. When he was younger, he couldn’t really convince his parents to let him go to the parties or sleepovers where those kinds of friendships were forged. He’d gotten used to being alone.

But this, what this was better. By the time summer started, it was getting pretty clear they were kindred souls, even if Jon Moxley would never voice something quite that poetic. 

____

“To leave like that. It was pretty messed up. That’s all.” Tyler mumbled, slumping into his corner on the couch and looking away from both the others. 

He could feel his back tighten. He could also feel Roman staring at him.  
“It’s not like I asked to be fucking expelled.”  
He heard a scoff and it made him grit his teeth.  
“Well you kinda did. You kept picking fights and shit like you didn’t wanna be there anymore.”  
“You have no clue what was going on.” Mox turned to shoot daggers Tyler’s way. 

“Yeah? Maybe because you shut down and didn’t tell us anything-”  
“Ty-” Roman interjected.  
“No no, let him say his shit. He’s always got somethin’ to say. So tell me. How the hell were either of you supposed to fix it, huh?” Moxley asked. He stood up off the couch, unable to sit still a second longer. It was too warm. His chest was too tight.  
“He’s a fucking nightmare. You know that.” ‘He’ didn’t need to be named. They’d all met Mox’s step dad. Track and field coach, member of the school board. Highly respected- And a drunk that’d basically forced his mom out after ten years too long of dealing with it. He never blamed her for leaving. Not really.

She thought he was old enough to handle himself, after all.  
“You coulda told someone…. All the stuff that was going on.” Tyler offered, considerably more quiet than his last outburst.  
“Bullshit. No one would listen. No one would believe me. They never believed her.”

He was sure both of them knew he was right, deep down. Sometimes ‘see something, say something’ didn’t mean shit. In a town like Harrison, the word of a woman who’d had a kid out of wedlock and her troubled kid wouldn’t hold up against the all-star coach that’d been kind enough to take them in.

“Coulda stayed with one of us.” Tyler’s hands were between his knees now, staring down at his high tops.  
Mox laughed. It started off harsh, and just fell off tired as he paced the length of the living room. Trapped. He could swipe up his bag. He could bug out now. The snow wasn’t that bad, right? People still drove around Canada in the winter. He could do it.  
“No I couldn’t. You’ve got… Your own shit. And he would’ve still been there. Every day. All he’d have to do is drop one frickin’ word to the pigs, and I get dragged back. He’d do it, too. Out of spite. Y’don’t know him.”  
He hated talking about this shit. He’d avoided it. He had it handled.

“He left me in jail for two weeks. Two. For some graffiti. That’s on my record now. All he had to do was tell ‘the boys’ he was straightenin’ me out, teaching a lesson to ‘that boy of Angie’s she left him with’ and he _left me there_. No. Fuck that. I wasn’t going back.” He blinked.  
He didn’t cry when she left. He wasn’t going to now.  
“I had to leave. Had to. But you didn’t have to cut me out.” After everything they'd been through, that was what had definitely hit hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a lot of random and convoluted backstory here I'm trying to cover. Hope it's landing:I


	4. 4

Jon Moxley didn’t dance. By transitive property, that meant he didn’t go to dances either.

“Are you sure…?” Tyler’s nose scrunched up as he scrutinized two ties that, by Moxley’s perspective, looked way too similar to distinguish. “Eighth grade graduation. Right of passage stuff. There’s still plenty of girls you could ask out.”   
Mox shrugged his shoulders, otherwise still perched on the back of department store bench.   
“I don’t dance.”   
“You said you liked _Dirty Dancing_ Tyler pointed out, cutting his eyes from two teal ties over to Moxley.   
“Shaddup.” Mox replied, shifting a little to regain a little pride from that semi-public revelation. 

“Can I help you guys?” The twenty-something attendant didn’t seem all that eager.

“Nah man. We’re still good. Promise.” Mox gave him a shit-eating grin and a thumbs up and sent him on his way.  
“Is it really obvious I’m that clueless?” Tyler asked, when the guy had gotten out of earshot.  
“Nope. Guy thinks I’m stealing,” Mox said. “Go with the one on the right. We still have some time to hit the food court.”

Tyler didn’t even ask why the one on the right was better. He was just happy to comply and get the hell out of there. And Moxley knew that was what mattered anyway. 

“Personally, I think milkshakes can be a meal,” he postulated around a straw as the two of them walked shoulder-to-shoulder back toward the mall entrance.

“I couldn’t have these when I was doing gymnastics. They were pretty strict about intake. M’getting too tall for it anyway though,” Tyler mused, finishing up his own. “Thanks for coming today. I know it’s not...You usual place. I’m just trying to do this thing right. Mom said my tie should match her dress, and there’s the whole flower bracelet thing and-” 

“Don’t worry about it so much. You like her. I’m sure she likes you. It’ll be fine. T’s just a dance. It’ll be crawling with faculty and parents. Not really any room to get serious enough to mess stuff up, y’know?” Mox trashed his empty cup in the outside bin and his hands immediately found his pockets instead.  
“I mean. She seems cool. I just… I guess I don’t really know her.”

“Think that’s what dates are for, dude.” Mox bumped his shoulder to the shorter boys. “Suit aside, it’s not marriage or anything. It’ll be fine.”  
“Thanks...Seriously.” Tyler smiled. And he might’ve said something else, if a car horn hadn’t alerted him that his mom had pulled up.

“I’ll call you Sunday about it!” He assured him as he climbed in the passenger seat.

Saturday night came, and Mox was sitting at home in his room, listening to radio static and bickering the walls didn’t hide. He wasn’t really thinking about either of those things, though.  
He almost put a hole in the wall before he decided to slip out the window instead. Black jeans, a clean white t-shirt, and a stolen jacket from his step-dad’s glory days weren’t exactly formal wear, but it was formal enough to crash a school dance, he figured.

By the time the bus dropped him off, it was getting late. Late for middle-school sanctioned stuff, anyway. He lingered on outside the door.  
“This is stupid,” he told himself. “Stupid.” He punctuated, giving himself a slap to the forehead before running a hand through his hair. Second thoughts weren’t something he was usually stuck on. It was usually impulse.  
And his impulse was saying that all that flirting and those ‘group dates’ to movies with that nice blonde and pretty brunette and that mean kinda hot goth chick had been well and fine, but he’d had the best time when Tyler was there. Or when it was just the two of them.   
And maybe it was stupid and maybe it was selfish that he was there, not entirely sure what he was going to do but definitely sure that whatever it was would ruin at least one person’s night.   
And maybe he should just go home, because of all the things he’d done and wound up on the wrong side of, this thing that meant so much wasn’t one he wanted to mess up.   
The gymnasium doors opened and string-light glow flooded the sidewalk he was pacing on. 

Hair slicked into a tight bun, sharp black suit, and honestly terribly teal tie and all- There he was. Pretty blonde from art class definitely not on his arm.  
“Hey… Mox.” He was surprised.   
That made Moxley feel like he intrinsically had the advantage. 

“Hey. How’s it going in there? Food decent?” He passed it off as casual. Not crazy. He could salvage this.   
“Uh. Yeah. That’s kinda… all I’ve been doing.” He laughed sheepishly. “Megan kinda. Rolled her ankle during the first dance. ….So we were just sitting and talking. Aaaand then someone dumped a whole glass of red punch on her dress. Her dad came by like an hour ago to pick her up.” He toed at the sidewalk with his too shiny dress shoes.

“M’sorry.” Every little speech and action he’d played out on the ride over deflated as he looked at his best friend.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t be. I’m kinda relieved. We got to talking… She’s kinda boring. And the music sucks. I’m just stuck here for another hour before my ride gets here. I’m kinda glad you’re here actually- Uh, unless I’m keeping you from someone, I mean...”

“Oh no. Definitely not. I just…” Came all the way out here for no reason at all? Didn’t sound very believable, even in his head. “...Sorry it was lame. I… Shit…Can we like… You wanna walk around the campus or somethin’?” 

Tyler nodded and they fell into step together, easy as always. The thudding music from the gym had completely faded out before Mox spoke up again.

“I’m gonna say some stuff, and if you don’t like it, you can hit me in the nose and we can forget I said it, and go back to stuff. If that’s cool. That’s like the best way to do this, I think. It seems fair and reasonable.”  
Tyler’s face might’ve betrayed that he didn’t agree with that being reasonable, but he knew Mox well enough not to mention that.

“I uh.” It was a stupid thing to get hung up on. He was a guy. But he was...hot. And funny. And they got along well. And stayed up until morning for sleepovers. It just never really occurred to him that the first thing wasn’t a deal-breaker. That kind of progression hadn’t really made it to Harrison. “You look good. Besides the tie I mean.”

“You too. Y’sure you don’t want to go back? Spend the rest of the dance looking too cool to be bothered?”   
Moxley slowed their pace until they’d stopped.  
“Pretty sure. Kinda only came to see you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Remember the thing I said about the punching. That’s fine.”

Tyler looked concerned now that it was clear that this wasn’t some dark sort of Moxley joke.   
Mox was a lot of things. Coward wasn’t one of them.  
“I like you. I don’t really know when it started or anything. I just… I do. Figured I should let you know.”

Mox kept his hands in his pockets. Silence between them lasted a few seconds, but Tyler didn’t punch him. So that was well. Only, maybe he didn’t get it. Mox opened his mouth for more hard clarification, but it was then he finally spoke.  
“Yeah. No yeah, me too.” He responded ambiguously. “We could’ve. I don’t know. Gone together. I mean, I’d have liked that. We couldn’t but, we could’ve like, gone stag together, I mean. That… That would’ve been better. I’d have liked that better.” 

None of it was as concise or definitive as it was in movie scripts. Two awkward teenage boys, standing awkwardly in the dark. Bare and navigating awkward feelings. Stumbling over confessions and questions until they were both close and laughing.

“So...We giving this a shot?” Mox eventually asked.  
His reply was lips pressed to his. Not long, two, maybe three seconds.   
It wasn’t his first kiss. That belonged to Maria in fifth grade. It wasn’t a deep kiss. That’d been the summer before at a day camp he’d been forced to go to. 

But it was a damned good kiss, anyway. And Moxley, cool looking or not, was grinning like a moron when he pulled away. But it was fine, because so was Tyler.   
Until a look of horror passed over his face.

“Oh shit. Shit I’m late. Mom’s waiting- Shit.” He moved to head back to the gymnasium, the parking lot nearly empty now, but paused.   
“Bye-” He stole another, much quicker peck and darted off. He got about ten feet before he turned around. “Oh, hey, need a ride? Mom’ll give you a ride…”   
“Bus runs until midnight. I’m good. G’night.”   
“Gnite.” Tyler flashed him all his teeth, and then he was running off again.

So everything changed. But for all of that, nothing really did. It was easy. They still made fun of one another and horseplayed in the hall. They still had the occasional sleepover at Ty’s place. They just maybe stole a kiss or two before bed.   
If anyone at the school noticed, they didn’t say anything. Probably because the one guy who had so much as suggested something got headbutted so hard his lip was busted and his eye was black.

The week of detention had been well worth it, in Mox’s opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Oblivious youths. 
> 
> Yeah this one is just a flashback. Sry.


	5. 5

Tyler didn’t say anything. And maybe part of Mox sort of resenting him for that. For being quiet while he’d been forced to explain himself and lay bare all of his bullshit. Maybe he was just resenting in general. 

Roman stood up and Mox had a big hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and shook his head. And he went to grab his duffel bag instead.  
“Whoa hey. Jon. …” He looked at the bag, and Mox knew that he could see through him.  
“It’s fine.” Mox went for the door, with Roman a step behind him.  
“Please don’t. Just stay. It’s bad out. You- Just stay.” He wasn’t going to.  
Only problem was by the time he shook Roman off Tyler was in front of the door. Mox squared up his shoulders defensively, ready to strong-arm out if he had to.

“Y’don’t need to go.” Tyler muttered, back pushed against the door protectively.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Mox clenched his jaw. Tyler continued anyway. “I didn’t know. I should’ve.”

He felt his cheeks heat up. Embarrassment. Shame. He never wanted anyone’s pity.  
“I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. ” He assured them both in a mutter. “I do alone just fine.”  
“But you don’t have to.” Roman said.  
“We don’t want you to….” Tyler added.  
Mox cursed and shook his head. But they weren’t going to just let him go. So he just… got himself out of the pity sandwich he was stuck between and put more distance between the three of them.  
The sound of a thunk and a hiss of pain had him glancing over his shoulder. Tyler had socked Roman in the chest and was glaring at him. “You coulda said somethin’,” he grumbled.  
Roman rubbed where the slap had landed. 

“I told him not to,” Mox said. “He came by my- By Jim’s house and I wasn’t there, so. Yeah. That’s me. Jon Moxley. Homeless ex-boyfriend. Happy? Had to bug out of the place I was stayin’. M’just going to go to the garage tomorrow. They’ll probably let me crash there. I’ll get some cash for a room somewhere on the southside. People are always trying to rent singles out of those apartments n shit. They’ll take money under the table, no lease or anything.” He had a plan. He could handle this. He’d handled it so far. 

They both stared at him.  
“What.” He asked, arms outspread. “Can you please say fucking something. Out with it. C’mon.”

“You’re probably the craziest person I’ve ever met,” Tyler said. “You’re also definitely the bravest. You’ve been going completely alone for… how long….?”  
“Since I got out this summer. So ..What. Six months.” Mox counted absently. He flopped on the couch. This time, he laid on it. He didn’t want any close company.  
“It’d be fine if I could just...I don’t know. Work over the table instead of having to worry about classes. I could make it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Roman said. Not for the first time.  
“Yeah well. That’s life, right?”  
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tyler had gone from that crinkled frown to the wide-eyed pout.  
“Not rat me out, I guess. They’d just make me go back. Or shove me in some group home, and both of those options suck ass and I’m not having it.” 

“I’ll talk to my mom. The divorce stuff is still. Y’know. Happening, but I think I can probably get her to agree with it.” Tyler tucked his shock of blonde hair behind his ear and nodded.  
“You don’t have to. I don’t need help.”  
“I know. You’re a tough bastard. We both get that. But it’s us...And we want to help anyway. Because you would if it was us.” Tyler said it. Roman agreed.

“ ‘Ex’ boyfriend or otherwise,” Roman leaned over the back of the couch until Mox was forced to look at him. That worried, pitiful look had changed back into something of a smile.  
Mox threw a throw pillow at his face.

_____________

Harrison High School was huge. It serviced a couple of different school districts, so most of the classes doubled in size from eighth to ninth grade. There were a lot of new faces in his classes. And none of the faces at all were Tyler.

Which sucked, considering how much time they’d spent together over the summer. The only class they shared was gym. Which was definitely a clusterfuck considering how many kids were in the school. But at least they got to see each other and talk then. Anytime they partnered off, it was Tyler and Jon and half the time they weren’t doing whatever drills they were supposed to be doing.

No one failed gym, so they were far from worried. Until football season ended, and all the team joined regular physical education courses to keep in shape. 

“You’re Jon, right? Your dad’s the track coach?” The guy tapping his shoulder looked like the set up to one of those ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ jokes. Mox was pretty sure he was on the JV football team, but as someone who made it a literal point not to go to the games, it was hard to be sure.  
“Stepdad. And people just call me Moxley,” he corrected. “What’s up?”  
“He uh. Wanted me and you to work together. I’m planning on running track and field in the offseason so. Oh. Sorry. My name’s Roman.” He held out his hand, and he smiled. Surprise, the teeth were great to.  
“Like the gods huh. “ Mox shook it. And if Tyler’d been around, he’d given him that ‘get a load of this dude’ look. “I hate to break it to you but, I don’t do track and field. I don’t do any sport. So… I don’t know what I’m supposed to help you with man.”

“Oh. Huh. “ Roman frowned. “Well. Coach Regal says we’re doing drills together anyway. So it’s good to meet you.”

This wasn’t exactly surprising. But it was annoying. Jim had, some several weeks ago, made a few comments about how often he’d stayed over at Tyler's that bordered on accusatory. Mox had, of course, pointed out that he slept better over there since there was way less yelling.  
His mom hadn’t been a fan of that retort. Neither had Jim. A couple of dishes were the only casualties, though. Until now. 

“Yeah man. Don’t let me get in the way of your training or anything Big Dog.” 

It would’ve been way easier to be morose and resentful if Roman hadn’t turned out to be the man he was. He was new to the state, a bright-eyed sports hopeful with no close friends and no clue how life worked in their town. 

It was weird and endearing and he was always inviting Mox over for dinner. When he relented finally, he was greeted with open arms by the whole family. It was like an island Partridge situation. Sometimes he hung out with him and Tyler on their lunch hour. 

That led to him looking like an over-grown hopeful puppy when they’d mistakenly mentioned after school plans around him. So he came along for that, too. And it became a more regular thing with the three of them.

Winter formal was coming around again, and while Mox still maintained that school dances weren’t his thing, they had been talking about going ‘stag’ ‘together’ To make up for prom, and because Jim was starting to be more of an ass about them. 

Moxley was stubborn as he was private, but neither of those things were concerned with cowardice or public perception. Roman joined them for that, too. And it somewhere near the fourth slow dance that he mentioned how their ties matched. An inside little joke Tyler had laughed at. 

“I’ll save your table if you guys wanna go dance,” Roman offered. “Think I’m done being footloose for the night.” The way he looked at them made it pretty clear that he wasn’t suggesting they go pluck a wallflower from the group of girls by the punch bowl.

“Seriously. It’s dark anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders and nodded. And as much as Mox didn’t want to dance, staying in that conversation seemed worse.  
“Fuck it. Cmon.” He dragged Tyler to the amorphous edge of the dance circle, and in the dim colored light they swayed for a bit.

“Right of passage, like you said. Duty fulfilled.”  
“Definitely. Lets ditch after this. And the rest of ‘em.” He let his arm hang lazily over Mox’s shoulder, and they finished out the song with no fanfare. If anyone saw, they didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t the worst thing, he guessed.

By springtime, things had gotten bad enough that he stopped inviting either of them over to his place. Which was fine, because he didn’t stay there much either. He was old enough to get a motorcycle license, and by God he was going to do odd jobs to save up for a bike if it killed him.  
The bummer was that gave him less time with his two best friends.  
It also led to Roman convincing Tyler to try out for track, since he was still pretty bummed about having to drop gymnastics. 

Mox was there for the secondary tryouts, and so was his stepdad, seeing as how he ran them. Both Roman and Tyler were clear shoe-ins, particularly with Tyler showing off his hurdle skills with grace and ease. 

He was also cheering them on from the sidelines with occasionally obnoxious hoots.  
And maybe that had been a mistake. Because on the second cut, Tyler was racing head to head against one of the senior team members. 

And he was keeping pace, too, until the bastard threw a shoulder right into his ribs that sent Tyler stumbling over a hurdle onto the asphalt. And he heard the pained yelp that followed.  
Mox treated the gate like a hurdle and cleared it. It was all red after that. 

He had the guy pinned with his knees and blood on his knuckles before they pulled him off. Jim was fuming.  
“Cmon! You saw that shit,” Mox yelled. “That was on purpose- “ 

Jim’s ire was there, but he was currently the only person it was directed at.  
“Get him to the nurse.” The ‘him’ in question was the star player with the broken nose, not Tyler.  
“Oh fuck you Jim.” Mox spat.  
“You. Office. Black… Maybe a delicate sport’s more your speed. ...Reigns.” Roman had indeed jogged from the other side of the field by now and was trying to help Tyler up. “Back to laps and you’re in.”  
“Sorry Coach. Think I’m just going to...keep focusing on football. " When it was pretty clear Tyler’s ankle was shot, Roman had no trouble just picking him up.

Moxley finally elbowed his way out of the two guys that’d pulled him off the broken-nosed asshole, only to see Roman with Tyler in his arms like he was nothing.

Uh oh. The thought hit him like he’d hit his stepdad’s favorite. Even with the throbbing ache in his knuckles is was hard to ignore that little flutter in his stomach. 

A not-so-friendly shove shook him out of his stupor and pointed him back to the building. He and Roman left together, Tyler in tow, with daggers being stared at their backs.


	6. 6

Apparently the faintest smile was the only cue Roman needed. He slid down over the back of the couch, fully horizontal until.  
“Oof. Jesus.” Mox was fully pinned, six foot of Samoan blanketing him with dead weight.. He might’ve laughed he could gather enough breath to do so. 

Roman laid there, chest to chest, and thunked his head as comfortably as he could on his shoulder.

“Jon Moxley...Do you really want to be my _ex_ -boyfriend?”]  
He could hear the pout in it. He let out a faint, compressed-lungs groan and wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. 

“No,” he admitted. Even if things had gotten bad, and they didn’t get to see each other or talk much, it’s not like they’d called anything off. It’d been awkward, without Tyler there too, but Roman hadn’t ever treated it like they were over. “But I do wanna breathe…” He tapped out on his shoulder. 

Roman didn’t get up, but he did readjust so that some of his weight was on the back of the couch instead of all on Mox’s chest.  
“Pizza’s cold,” Tyler announced, a lot closer than he’d been a minute ago. 

Mox looked up in time to see him sit on the floor, back against the arm of the couch next to his head.  
“Cold pizza’s good,” he answered, black and blond curls in his eyeline.  
Ty hummed his agreement, and the trio fell silent for a few minutes. Just being close. Just enjoying company. 

The tension and stress and questions all temporarily suspended. Things felt almost like they used to.

_______________

“So. I got a question.” Mox spoke around a mouth full of french fries. Tyler, sitting at the other end of the couch, was in a similar state.  
“Yeah...? Shoot.”  
Their legs were tangled together in the middle, and they had a couple hours before Tyler’s mom would be home from work.

“Hypothetical here. But you know how people have those like, ‘passes’ where you can be with one person without consequence…? Who’d you pick…?” 

“You mean like a celebrity or something….?”  
“No. Like someone from school, man.”  
“This is entrapment,” Tyler accused, pointing a fry at Mox.  
“No it’s not. M’not going to get pissed. Who’re you talking to.”  
Tyler thought on while he chewed.  
“You first.” 

God damnit. Mox rolled his eyes, but knew there wouldn’t be any way he was going to argue around it.  
“That blonde girl from my algebra class. She’s cute.” She was cute. That’s not who he was getting at, though. “Your turn.”  
Tyler seemed to cautiously buy that answer. 

“You can’t get mad, and you can’t say shit,” he stipulated. Mox held out his hands peaceably. 

“... I think it’d have to be Roman.”  
“I fucking knew it.”  
“Hey, you promised! Besides, it doesn’t mean anything-”

“Nah, I get it. I’d pick Roman, too. Just wanted you to say it first.” That earned him a kick to the calf. “Ow. … He’s just. Y’know. He’s a really good guy. And he’s…”  
“...Built like a god. Yeah, I had sorta noticed.” Tyler rolled his eyes.  
“...Thinking about trading up?”  
“What? No. Shut up...Seriously.” Tyler shifted in his spot. “You’re just trying to get me to say mushy and lovey-dovey soulmate stuff t’you y’punk…”

Mox smiled.  
“Yeah. Maybe.” He got a fry thrown at his chest a second before he invaded Tyler’s side of the couch for a kiss. 

\---

“What if it was like, one of those triangle things, except none of it’s unresolved or whatever?” Tyler’s hushed tone was pretty loud in the library. Mox looked up over the stack of books he’d assembled with confusion.

“Are you talking about geometry?”  
“..No. I mean. Us. The three of us. Us and Roman. “ Tyler puffed out an exasperated breath. “..What if it was us, like we are, but..Y’know, also Roman.”

This was fairly out of the blue. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t toyed with the thought himself.  
“I mean. Sure. I guess… Could work. I mean. He comes on most of our dates anyway so, maybe we already are.”  
Tyler looked up.  
“Shit. You’re right. Are we dating Roman?”

“Shh. Say it any louder and someone else’ll tell him before we do,” Mox warned him.  
“But...Yeah. Let’s just take him out and see what he says.”

“That’s….Gonna be a weird conversation.” Tyler tapped his fingers on the table.  
“Yeah, but it’ll be fine. Seems right, doesn’t it?...”  
Tyler nodded.  
“Then it’ll be alright. Worked out well with us.” Mox felt a foot knock his under the table, and the two went back to their half-assed studying. 

Maybe it was a little on the nose sticking him in the middle when they went to see the movie. Maybe it was a little on the nose going to a movie at all. But here they were. Arm seats up, shoulder to shoulder, watching an action movie that, frankly, didn’t have jackshit on Diehard. But the cars were cool. Dinner was a hotdog cart that Mox said was the best in town. Before he could even go for his wallet, Roman was paying for all three.

“What’s that about?” He asked as they sat down at a table.  
“First date. I’m buying,” Roman replied easily.  
Tyler and Mox exchanged glances.  
“S what this is, right?” Roman asked.  
“Well. Kinda,” Mox admitted. “Yeah. How’d you know.”  
Roman smiled that little side smile.  
“You guys’ve been acting kinda weird for weeks now...And Ty was holding my hand for like, half of that movie.” 

Mox looked at him incredulously. Tyler looked guilty as hell.  
“Babe, you are so not good at playing it cool.” He patted Tyler’s shoulder. “Well. That shit’s all on the table now, I guess. What’d’ya think?”  
Roman took a moment to think on it, and also to take a bite. 

“... Well. I think you two are the only people I feel like I know. And I’ve not exactly felt like I was a third wheel for a while. Seeing as how you brought be out for Valentine’s Day with you.”  
“Mm,” Mox swallowed and pointed. “His idea. I don’t really believe in greeting card holidays… It was great though.” He added on the last bit to dodge that glare Tyler was shooting at him.  
“Right. If it’s on the table. ...Then. Yeah. Never thought this was the kinda situation I’d be in. In a lot of ways but. I guess it just happens like that sometimes so...I’m in? What d’you guys think…?”

“I think if it works, it works. It might sound weird but it doesn’t feel weird.” Tyler added.

“I think,” Mox studied his food. “It’s….super ironic that we’re all eating hot dogs.”  
Roman snorted and almost choked in the process. Tyler tried to shake his head but it didn’t do much to cover up his own giggle fit.  
Things played out slow and easy after that, and it was almost like it’d been the three of them from the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory bones finally established. I need a nap.


End file.
